


Before the Brew

by MsWriterPerson



Series: Warm Me Like Coffee [2]
Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Bullying, Connected to Another AU, Family Issues, Gen, Prequel, delinquent galo, rich boy lio
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:02:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24194005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsWriterPerson/pseuds/MsWriterPerson
Summary: A Special Four-Part Prequel to my fic Warm Me Like Coffee, giving a glimpse into the lives of Galo and Lio before the events of the main story!
Series: Warm Me Like Coffee [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1746136
Kudos: 10





	1. Galo (Part One)

Galo took a deep breath of the fresh spring air, the wind rustling through the trees. There was nothing better than skipping class and relaxing in the school courtyard on beautiful days like this. It felt like a crime to be cooped up in the classroom. Galo looked at the light flickering through the leaves. _'Not like the teachers would miss me anyway'_ he thought to himself, a pang of loneliness in his chest. A rustle rang out from the other side of the courtyard.

"Please, I don't want any trouble." A timid voice begged.

"Then don't make me give you any." A rough voice growled. Galo sat up, spotting a young girl backed up against the wall, facing off against a much larger student. Galo inched closer, realizing they hadn't spotted him yet. He hid behind a bush, pulling out his phone as he started recording.

"What do you want from me?" She asked frightfully, her legs shaking.

"Nothing much," He smiled viciously. "Just for you to get a few answers wrong on the next placement exam."

"The placement exam? You want me to lower my score?" She repeated back, clutching her books to her chest like a shield.

"Exactly. I knew a smart girl like you would figure it out quick." He mocked.

"But... I can't do that..." She mumbled. "I need scholarships for school...."

He slammed his fist into the wall beside her, causing her to flinch in terror. "I'm not asking you to fail the test. Just get a few answers wrong. Is that so hard?"

She trembled, her legs starting to give out from underneath her. "Someone... help...." She whispered.

"Wow, a real-life bullying." Galo announced, stepping out from his hiding spot as he continued to film. "You don't see them a lot anymore." Both of them looked at Galo with shocked surprise. "Oh, you're Vulcan, right? From the third year class?" Galo continued to film, talking loudly to attract attention. "I wonder what the teachers will say when they find out you've been bullying fellow students."

Vulcan stepped back from the girl. "Stay out of this." He warned.

"Oh, I'm not getting involved, I'm just recording this for posterity." Galo grinned. "You know, videos like this have been going viral a lot lately... I thought I'd get in on the action."

Vulcan cried out in frustration. "This isn't over." He growled, turning and marching off. Galo put his phone down, walking over to the girl, who sunk to her knees.

"You okay?" Galo asked, offering her a hand.

"I... think so." She whimpered, taking it and rising back to her feet. "Thank you... for stepping in like that."

"No problem. I couldn't just sit by and watch." Galo smiled at her. "I'm Galo, by the way."

"Oh, I'm Heris." She introduced, straightening her uniform back out.

"Nice to meet you. You should stick with your friends for a while, just to be safe. Do you walk home alone?" Galo asked.

"No, I usually walk with my sister." Heris replied.

"Good. I'm not sure what Vulcan's after but he should leave you alone if he can't get to you for a few days." Galo flashed an optimistic grin.

"Hey! You two! Why aren't you in class?" The teacher yelled from an upper window.

"Oh crap, gotta run." Galo turned and sprinted away.

"Wait!" Heris called after him.

"Thymos? Are you skipping class again?" The teacher shouted, Galo darting behind the school building and out of sight. 

"...I didn't get a chance to repay him." She mumbled quietly.

Galo rushed behind the school storage building, taking a moment to make sure the coast was clear. So far, so good. He sighed in relief as he dropped down on the steps. Guess finishing his afternoon nap wasn't going to happen at this point. Nothing he could really do about it now. It's not like he could just let that girl get bullied. Galo pulled out his phone. 1:13pm. It felt like a waste to go back to class. Galo eyed the nearby fence, making a small smirk as he got up and walked over to it. After one more quick glance around, he climbed it, hopping down to freedom.

Galo walked up the stairs to his family's apartment. The old and rusty steps creaked underneath his feet. The place wasn't much to look at, but it was the only place he could call home. He approached his front door, feeling around in his pocket for his keys as the door beside him swung open, startling Galo. 

"Jesus Chr- oh, hi Mrs. Thyma." Galo greeted, steadying himself out. The elderly woman looked him up and down, squinting at him with suspicion.

"You're home rather early today, dear." She pointed out. "Should a young man like you be at school right now?"

"Um, it was a... half-day today." Galo replied hastily.

"Hmph." Mrs. Thyma continued to stare at him. "Is that so..." Galo fidgeted under her watchful gaze, trying to force a pleasant smile. "Well, while I've got you here let me give you a watermelon." Mrs. Thyma dived back inside her apartment, quickly grabbing a large melon before thrusting it into Galo's arms. "I wanted to give it to your mother but I never see her anymore."

"Oh, you didn't have to do this, Mrs. Thyma." Galo countered, struggling to balance the fruit with his school bag.

"Nonsense, my son-in-law brought me a batch from his farm and I have far too many to eat myself. And a growing boy like you needs to get his nutrients." She insisted. 

"Oh, well... Thank you." Galo smiled nervously at her, as she looked him up and down again.

"Tell your mother I said hello when you see her." She instructed, shutting herself back in her apartment.

"Yes, ma'am..." Galo sighed, grateful to have made it through that conversation. Mrs. Thyma may always mean well, but she had a nasty habit of poking her nose into other people's business. Galo unlocked the door, opening it to a quiet, dark apartment. He set the watermelon down on the counter, turning on the kitchen light. A small note sat on the table. 

_-Galo, use this money to buy yourself dinner._

_-Mom_

Galo picked up the twenty dollar bill next to the note, sliding it in his pocket. Mrs. Thyma's words echoed in his head. It's not like he saw his mother much anymore either. She had never been the "mothering" type, and ever since his dad left years ago, she had wanted almost nothing to do with her son. Money for food and the roof over his head was the full extent of her effort.

Galo somberly brought the watermelon to the sink, preparing to cut it open. He could clearly hear the sound of the knife slicing into the melon with the overwhelming silence of this place. He wondered when the last time his mom was home with him was. He pushed the knife through, unable to remember. He re-positioned a freshly-cut half to cut it again. He focused more on what he was doing, realizing that not only could he not remember the last time she was home, he could barely remember what her face looked like. 


	2. Galo (Part Two)

Galo wandered the city streets as the early evening crowds began to dissipate, returning to their home or meeting their friends for their gatherings. He enjoyed these walks through the town, watching everyone go about their lives. He was both blended into the crowd and a complete outsider. He could witness small parts of everyone's lives, and no one would know he was there. He felt for the money in his pocket, wondering where he should go to eat.

"Well, look who it is!" A rough, threatening voice snarled in delight, as Galo felt a heavy arm wrap around his shoulders. He felt a shiver run down his spine.

"What do you want, Vulcan?" Galo growled. Vulcan gave him an evil smile.

"There's someone who wants to have a little chat with you." He explained, muscling Galo into a dark alleyway.

The shadows from the setting sun covered the alley, but Galo could still make out the figure of a young man leaning against a wall. Vulcan shoved Galo in front of him. Galo stumbled, looking up to see the man step forward out of the shadows. The spotless uniform, the slicked back blonde hair, Galo recognized him immediately. "Kray Foresight." Galo mumbled. "What's the top student doing hiding in a place like this?"

"Yes, this is not the most ideal of locations." Kray agreed, taking a step towards Galo, looking down at him with cold, calculating eyes. "But I wanted to make sure we weren't.... interrupted."

"What do you want, Kray?" Galo cut to the chase.

"Earlier today you stumbled upon a rather unpleasant conversation between Vulcan and Ms. Heris." Kray explained. "And you captured some footage of that conversation. I would like that deleted. If you don't mind."

"So basically you don't want the fact Vulcan is bullying to get out." Galo rephrased.

Kray stared him down. "I'm asking politely. Don't make this a bigger issue than it has to be." Vulcan cracked his knuckled behind him.

"What does this have to do with you?" Galo asked, tensing up.

"That's none of your concern." Kray warned, stepping closer to Galo, now only inches away from him as he glared down at him. "This is your last chance. Delete the footage."

Galo refused to back down. "No."

Kray took a step back, a sly grin breaking across his face. "Very well, we'll do this the hard way. Vulcan, if you would do the honors."

Galo felt a sharp blow from behind him, a white light flashing in his head.

Galo tasted blood in his mouth, his body too sore to move from the trash pile he'd been tossed in. Vulcan grinned at his handy work, pulling Galo's phone from his pocket and giving it to Kray. "The trash suits you, Thymos." Kray smiled, enjoying the moment. "I did ask you politely, but I suppose someone as stupid as you has to have lessons beat into you." Kray turned, smashing the phone into the wall behind him with a mighty throw. "You've always been an eyesore. Why don't you do everyone a favor and just stop coming to school entirely?" Galo stared down at his lap, speechless. "Now that this matter's been settled, let's be on our way. Come on, Vulcan." Kray turned to leave, Vulcan following closely behind, chuckling at Galo's beaten state one more time before returning to the main road.

Galo laid silently, feeling loose pieces of garbage poking at him. Maybe Kray was right. Maybe he did belong in the trash. He didn't belong at his school. He didn't belong at his home. He didn't belong anywhere. With no real home to go to, no one waiting for him, he'd be just as welcome in this pile of junk as much as anywhere else in the world.

A nearby side door opened, a large, burly man in sunglasses stepping out, carrying a full trash bag. He spotted Galo, slowly walking over to him. "You look like you've gotten into a bit of trouble, young man." He stated plainly.

"Leave me alone." Galo groaned.

"I would, but you seem to laying on my trash pile and I don't feel right tossing more trash on you." The man pointed out. Galo chuckled sadly. He didn't even belong in the trash. The man offered him a hand. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up." Galo looked up at the man, hesitant. But at this point, what did he have to lose?

The man led Galo through the side door, into a kitchen, out into a small cafe. The pleasant smell of caramel and hazelnut wafted through the air. The man gestured for Galo to take a seat at one of the tables as he pulled out a first aid kit. Galo peeked over the few customers loitering around with their coffees and light meals, a few glancing over to see what was going on. Galo sat down, the man sitting across from him, taking an alcohol wipe to Galo's cut face. "Hold still." He instructed. Easier said than done, as it stung Galo's open wounds.

"Who... are you?" Galo finally asked.

"Name's Ignis. This is my cafe, Promare." He explained, putting a bandage on Galo's wounded hand. "What's your story?"

"I'm Galo." He introduced.

"And why were you beat up in my garbage, Galo?" Ignis inquired.

"It's a long story. It's not important." Galo deflected, turning away.

"Well, you don't strike me as much of a fighter." Ignis pointed out. "But a man's gotta stand up for himself. Now, I think we've got you all set, you best head on back for the night."

Galo paused. "It's not like I have anywhere to go." He mumbled.

Ignis stopped. "Well, in that case," He walked over to the counter, preparing a ham and cheese panini and a hot chocolate, bringing them back over to Galo. "If you ever need a hot meal, you're always welcome here."

Galo took a bite, the warm flavors soaking into him. This was the first hot meal someone had made him in... he didn't even know how long. It filled him with a sense of hope, acceptance, like for the first time, someone had seen him. He felt his eyes filling up with tears as he chowed down on the rest of it, Ignis ruffling his hair gently.

Galo took a deep breath. He didn't want to come back to school after what had happened, but his meeting with Ignis gave him the courage to give it one more shot. He marched down the hallway and into his homeroom class. The student's giggling and chattering silenced instantly, shocked at Galo's rare appearance in class. He could feel their eyes on him as he approached his seat, dropping his bag on his desk. Today was a fresh start.

_"Galo Thymos, to the principal's office, Galo Thymos, to the principal's office."_

The overhead voice rang out clearly, Galo's classmates whispering among one another as Galo walked back out of the room, unsure of what this was about. Maybe his consistent absences were finally catching up to him. He wondered what kind of defense he would give as he neared the office, knocking on the door to announce he had arrived.

"Come in." Galo tensed up. The principal sounded pissed. Still, he opened the door.

Vulcan stood in front of the principal's desk, flashing Galo another vicious grin. This was not going to be good. "Come here, Mr. Thymos." The principal ordered sharply. Galo obeyed, standing next to Vulcan. "It had come to my attention that on top of your refusal to show up to class, you've been harassing and bullying other students." He read out, his voice stern.

"What? I haven't harassed anyone!" Galo insisted.

"I have here a witness, who says that not only did you bully another student, you fought with him when he tried to intervene." The principal gestured to Vulcan.

"This is bullshit!" Galo shouted. "I was the one that stopped him!"

"Watch your language, Mr. Thymos!" The principal spat back. "You expect me to believe that Vulcan, a model student, was bullying a fellow student, while you, with your consistent record of causing trouble, did not?"

"Because it's the truth!" Galo pleaded.

"Do you have any evidence to support this claim of yours?" The principal demanded. Galo froze up. His only proof was the footage on his phone, which was utterly destroyed. "Vulcan here has the fellow witness and backing of Kray Foresight, so it is clear enough to me what happened." The principal stood up, ready to announce his verdict. "Galo Thymos, this school has a zero tolerance policy for bullying. And so, as of today, you are suspended from school for two weeks. Please gather your belongings and return home for the day. I'm sure that'll be just fine with you considering your.... attendance record."

Galo felt his chest collapse. There was nothing he could do. He was still completely powerless. Nothing was going to change that. He hung his head, trying not to cry.

"Sir, please excuse me!" Heris swung open the door, marching into the room with a handful of students. "There has been a massive misunderstanding."

"Ms. Heris, what is going on? You can't just march in here..." The principal stammered.

"Sir, I'm sorry for eavesdropping, but Galo is telling the truth." Heris explained. "Yesterday I was being bullied by Vulcan, and Galo stepped in to stop him."

"T-that's absurd." The principal fumbled. "I have the good word of Kray Foresight that Vulcan is an upstanding student."

"Sir, it was Kray Foresight that put Vulcan up to it. He has bullied me, and my classmates here, into knowingly under-performing on our tests to ensure Kray Foresight remains number one in the student rankings." The students behind Heris nodded and mumbled in agreement.

"Wh-how.... This is a very serious matter..." The prinicipal struggled to find the words. "We'll have to do a full investigation into this...."

"Sir, before that, please lift the suspension from Galo, he was only protecting me. I'll vouch for him." Heris insisted.

The principal's gaze bounced back and forth between Heris and Galo. "....Very well. The suspension is lifted." Galo blinked in amazement. Everything had changed in a heartbeat. "We'll call Kray here and get full statements from all the students involved. You are free to go, Mr. Thymos." He waved his hand for Galo to go, Galo slowly taking a few steps back.

He pulled Heris aside. "Hey... thanks. For standing up for me."

Heris blinked at him a few times. "I feel like I should be thanking you for the same thing." She confessed. "This was the least I could do to show my thanks."

Galo smiled, giving her a small wave goodbye before walking back out into the hallway. His small good deed had led him this far. He felt a sense of resolve in his chest, rushing back to his class to grab his bag.

"Back so soon, Mr. Thymos?" His teacher teased, Galo tossing his bag over his shoulder and running back to the door.

"Sorry, Teach, gotta go home early. I've got a terrible stomach ache!" He chimed, bolting out the door.

His teacher grinned to herself. "Who on Earth has a smile like that when they have a stomach ache?" She pointed out quietly to herself.

Galo ran as fast as his legs could carry him, down the street and towards the cafe. He shoved the door open, shocking Ignis, who was still wiping down the counter. "What the hell... Aren't you supposed to be at school right now?" Ignis muttered.

Galo caught his breath, standing up straight and looking Ignis in the eyes. "Please let me work here!" Galo declared. "I've never had a place to belong to before, so I want to try and make one here."

"Well, this is all very sudden..." Ignis pointed out.

"I'll do whatever job you need me to! I'll wash dishes, mop the floors, anything! Just please let me work here!" Galo begged.

Ignis sighed, stepping out from behind the counter to stand in front of Galo. "You know, this is a lot harder than it looks. You need to learn how to make dozens of different coffee mixes, as well as how to prepare food, and how to deal with customers. It's long and grueling work and it doesn't pay very much. Are you still interested?"

"Yes, sir! Please give me a chance!" Galo insisted.

A small smile broke across Ignis' face. "Very well. You are officially hired. On one condition." Galo's eyes grew wide. "No more skipping school. A man needs a good education." 

Galo felt his chest fill up with excitement, so much he felt like he would burst. "Yes, sir!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of Galo's prequel story, next up is Lio's! I hope you'll stay tuned and enjoy it!


	3. Lio (Part One)

Lio stared blankly across the lecture hall, his political science professor rambling about Socrates and ancient government systems. He should be taking notes, but he just couldn't bring himself to pay attention to what was being said. He tapped his pen, eyeing his open notebook. They were learning about the Greeks, right? His mind wandered to images of ancient gods and myths, creatures so terrifying they could turn someone into stone, people falling in love only to lose it moments later. The wheels in his head began to turn, his pen draw to his paper like a magnet. He began writing tales of mighty warriors and prophecies, something far more distant and exciting than the classroom he was currently confined in.

His mind danced across a thousand twists and turns for his newfound characters, far off places for them to go, incredible people to meet. He words formed in his head faster than he could write them down, a rush of exhilaration driving him go further down the rabbit hole. The rest of the classroom seemed to vanish, leaving only Lio and his thoughts as they built palaces around him. He turned the pages, filled every inch of them with the words of his created world.

The shrill school bell rang out, ripping Lio out from his imagination, back into the cold arms of reality. He glanced down at his notebook, now covered in his latest invention. He sighed. Another notebook to hide away. He gathered his belongings, marching silently out of the classroom, feeling the eyes of his peers on him.

"Hey, that's Lio Fotia, right? Son of the guy who started his own law firm?" He heard one whisper.

"Yeah, isn't it, like, a multi-million dollar firm now? I bet his family is loaded." Another replied.

"Kinda stuck-up, isn't he? I never see him hanging out with anyone, and did you see him in class just now? Writing so many notes...." Lio shoved open the classroom door, unable to endure another second of their gossip. The whole Pre-Law department knew who he was, or rather, who his father was. And they either avoided him or tried to suck up to him because of it. Naturally he couldn't trust a single one of them. He strode down the hallway, more eyes catching glimpses at him. They refused to treat him like a person, but more like an animal at the zoo. He clung to his bag, thinking about the notebook he'd been daydreaming in. His stories were the only place he felt safe, where he felt seen. It was his hidden, secret sanctuary, and one he felt compelled to protect by keeping it all to himself.

Lio opened the door to his house, the entry hall empty and quiet. Business as usual in the Fotia household. He walked towards the stairs to his room, the housekeeper poking her head out from the dining hall. "Young master, welcome home!" She greeted politely.

"Thank you." Lio answered. "Is my father home yet?"

"No, he's working late tonight, but he did leave a message that he should be home for dinner at 8 this evening." She explained. Lio took a few steps up the stairs. "Would you like me to bring you some snacks while you study?"

"No, thank you. Could you please let me know when dinner's ready?"

"Absolutely. Please don't overwork yourself in the meantime!" She chimed happily, returning to her work. She always had such a pleasant expression about her, Lio wondered how much of it was sincere and how much was forced for her job. Of course, a housekeeper faking kindness to cover a terrible secret would be an interesting story. Lio grinned, thinking about various plot lines as he entered his room, locking the door behind him. He had gotten used to the barren state he was required to keep it in. After all, according to his father, a man should focus on his career and his family, not silly little hobbies. He dropped his bag on his desk, retrieving his notebook. He glanced over the couple of pages he had written on in class, carefully ripping them out. He pulled a paper clip out of his desk, pinning them together as he walked towards his dresser. He cautiously pulled the top drawer completely out, revealing the small hutch underneath, with dozens of similar packets of paper inside. Lio set his papers in with the others, gently pushing the drawer back into place. 

Lio returned to his desk, having successfully hidden the evidence. He could never bear to throw his stories away, silly as they were. They felt like small parts of himself, tucked away neatly where no one but him could find them. He opened his textbook, trying to shift his brain back into study-mode, struggling to focus as he could feel his mind being called to by the pile of ideas he had locked away in the dresser.

He was finishing his essay on internationalism as a knock echoed from his door. "Young master," The housekeeper called. "Dinner is ready."

Lio took a deep breath. This was always the most stressful part of his night. "I'm coming." He called back, straightening his clothes, feeling like he was preparing armor for battle. He walked cautiously down the stairs, not wanting to his steps to be too loud or too quick, strolling gracefully into the dining room. His father was already seated, sipping on tea, face stern and cold as ever. His mother sat quietly to his left, hands neatly folded in her lap. Lio sat down at his spot at the table, careful to make all his movements perfect. "Good evening, Father." He greeted blankly.

"Lio." His father replied, a hint of pride in his voice. "How was school today?"

"It went well." Lio answered. "We're studying the Greeks, currently." The housekeeper quickly brought out their dinners, setting them in front of the family members.

"Ah, yes. That's Professor Prometh's class, isn't it?" His father asked, Lio nodding. "Rather boring lectures, in my opinion, but the man taught me some of the most important lessons in my life." Lio poked at his food. "I trust you're taking your classes seriously?"

"Yes, sir." Lio replied, cutting himself off a piece of meat.

"Good. You're the fourth generation of Fotia men to study law. I'm hoping one day to have the sign on my firm read 'Fotia and Son'." His father mentioned for what Lio felt was the one thousandth time. He could feel his eyes narrowing on him. "Don't disappoint me, Lio."

Lio paused, the pressure mounting in the room. "I won't, sir." Lio answered quietly.

"Now, now, let's talk about something else!" Lio's mother interjected, trying to ease the tension. "Darling, how was your day at work?"

Lio's father cleared his throat, readjusting himself. "Well you know how I told you about the deal with Foresight Industries? They've signed us on to look over their records...." Lio stared down at his plate as his father chatted about his job, about clients he had dealt with, contracts he had reviewed. The same day to day life Lio was doomed to. Lio took a bite of his dinner, the food tasteless in his mouth.

Lio found himself writing another story in Professor Prometh's class, this time about a solider who had turned his back on his homeland after the king destroyed his village. He had been on edge since the dinner conversation with his father just a few nights before, eager to throw himself back into his imagination for some excitement in the face of his dull, empty fate. The shrill bell once again signaled the end of class, Lio hearing snickering and more gossip behind him. If only he could permanently escape from this life of his, into a world of his own creation. He stood up, his bag catching on the back of his chair, dumping it's full contents onto the floor. Murmurs of laughter echoed through the room.

"So even the great Lio Fotia makes mistakes~" One girl said, just loud enough for him to hear. He focused on gathering his belongings, shoving them into his bag as quickly as possible, before rushing out of the room. He stormed into the bathroom, turning on the sink so he could wash his face. He looked up at himself in the mirror. He had always been told he looked like his father, with his sharp eyes and pale blonde hair. And he was expected to live the same life as his father as well. All his life was a step by step guide into becoming his father. If this continued, would there be anything left that made him Lio?

He sank to his knees, reaching into his bag for his notebook. He felt pens, textbooks, folders.... but no notebook. He opened up his bag for a better look, but his notebook was clearly missing. Lio felt a surge of panic, wondering if he had left it in the classroom after his bag was dumped out. The echoes of the class laughing echoed in his head. His only evidence of his sanctuary was in that notebook. Lio ran back down the hall, into the classroom.

But it was not his classmates who had recovered his notebook, but the professor, standing beside Lio's seat, his open notebook in his hand as he read it. Lio looked down, quietly walking up to him to retrieve it. "Excuse me, Professor, I think I left that behind."

Professor Prometh looked up at Lio, then back at the notebook. "You know, Mr. Fotia, I had often suspected you weren't taking notes when you were writing so furiously in my class." He begun, Lio tensing up. "But this is rather beyond my expectations."

"I'm so sorry, sir. I promise I won't do it again." Lio apologized, hoping to do some damage control.

Professor Prometh closed the notebook, handing it back to Lio. "On the contrary, Mr. Fotia, I certainly hope you do." Lio blinked at him, confused. "As I'm sure your father has told you, I was once his professor back when he was your age. Bright young man, a lot of promise. But he had a passion for law, in all of my lectures he would sit front and center, eyes wide with interest." Lio was speechless, he had never imagined his father, stone-cold and unyielding, to be an excitable person under any circumstances. "I took him as my protege because I knew he was doing what he wanted to do. But you, Mr. Fotia," the professor paused. "I think there's something else you want to do. And that notebook is the proof."

"But... where do I even start?" Lio asked quietly.

"That is entirely up to you." The professor replied. "But, if I may make a suggestion, there is an upcoming writing competition for fresh talent. I think you might be interested to check it out." The professor offered him a small smile, walking past Lio and to the doorway. "The choice is yours, Mr. Fotia. But I must say I am very interested in how you'll choose to let this story end."

The professor left, leaving Lio in quiet wonder. A writing competition? He had never shared his stories with anyone, let anyone for competition. Did he even stand a chance? He felt a fire burn deep inside him, slowly growing as he ran out the door, speeding back home. He rushed past the housekeeper, up the stairs, locking the door behind him again. His body and soul were burning up. He pulled out the top drawer, all his hidden secrets staring at him back in the face as he pulled them all out. He glanced over them all, comedies, tragedies, dramas... each one calling out to him. He pulled out an old drabble he'd written about a man who'd lived a hundred lives. This was it. He set it on the desk, pulling out a fresh piece of paper. The fire inside was consuming him whole. He felt that it was hot enough to destroy him, but he felt something new beginning to rise from the ashes.


End file.
